


Far Away in Mexico

by msmooseberry



Category: Life Is Strange 2 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Post-Parting Ways Ending (Life is Strange 2), Translation in English
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:28:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29387010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msmooseberry/pseuds/msmooseberry
Summary: after parting ways
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Far Away in Mexico

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [В далёкой Мексике](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/760059) by Vjht. 



> This is the translation of a PW fic I’ve been waiting for someone to write and wanted to share with more people here. Hope you’ll enjoy it as much as I did, and if you read Russian, check out the original, it’s really beautifully written!
> 
> Warning: It gets dark towards the end.

Daniel was talking to his mother on the phone standing in the living room that was bathed in the rays of July sun. The Reynolds’ house had hardly changed since he came here six years ago. Same pictures on the walls, same books on the shelves, same furniture and floor lamps – Grandma and Grandpa were rather conservative and didn’t like changes. Then again, neither did Daniel. As long as nothing changed he could pretend he was a figurine inside of a snow globe, a fly stuck in a piece of amber, a fish trapped in the aquarium – time seemed to have stopped here, and Daniel didn’t want it to resume its course.

He always thought that as long as everything stayed the same Sean could come downstairs any minute, go sit in the armchair in front of the fireplace and open his sketchbook. He would look at the scenery out of the window, moving his pencil over the paper. He would fall deep in thought, squint, biting at the tip of the pencil, and add more details here and there. Or ask Daniel to do the dishes or tidy up his room. Or simply smile, put a hand on his shoulder, and ask, “How’re you doing, little wolf? Feeling better?” Daniel would give him a wide grin and answer, “Yes, Sean, the cough is almost gone already. Let’s have a snowball fight outside!”

But Sean was far away in Mexico.

“The car is wicked, Mom,” he was saying into the speaker. “Thanks for buying it for me all together, but really, you shouldn’t have splurged on such an expensive gift… No, I love it, and Chris loves it even more, you should see him!”

Through the glass doors he watched Grandpa, who had visibly advanced in years, slowly pushing the lawnmower. Daniel waved at him.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll pass it on to Sean… No, Puerto Lobos is still on radio silence – no internet, no phone service. But it’s safe for him there, Mom, you know FBI have eyes and ears everywhere. I’d love to chat with him too. You have no idea how much I miss his voice, but it have to be just letters for now. Yes, as soon as the tracker is gone I’ll go down to Mexico through Arizona. And before then I don’t think you should go to him either, you could be watched… Oh, Grandma just returned!”

The front door opened and Claire came in. With time she got thinner and was moving much slower than before. Her hair appeared to have turned whiter too, if that was even possible. Her strictness melted away and all that was left was her love for her grandson.

“Look, Daniel, Sean sent you a letter,” she said, giving him the white envelope.

“I’ll give her the phone,” he said, taking it. “Tell everyone I said hi! I miss them all very much. And I miss you, Mom. Bye.”

He passed his cell to Grandma and started studying the envelope. It had a yellow stamp on and their address in big bold letters:

_Daniel Diaz_

_c/o Mr. & Mrs. Reynolds_

_102 Evergreen St._

_Beaver Creek, OR_

_USA_

Daniel opened it and took two polaroids out. One was a shot of the beach in Puerto Lobos, the other had Sean smiling at the camera with the same beach in the background. He looked almost the same as Daniel remembered seeing him last, the only difference was the little mustache and a thin beard adorning his face. 

Grandma finished talking with Karen and looked at Daniel. He waved his hand and the pictures came flying her way one after another. She took them without a hint of surprise and walked over to the couch to look at them more closely.

Being a devout Christian woman, Claire knew that her younger grandson was a special boy. She realised it six years ago when he used his incredible power to lift the cupboard that had fallen on Stephen. Since then she believed that Daniel’s power was a gift from God and never searched for answers about its origin, cause or purpose, because the Lord works in mysterious ways. Daniel was growing into a wonderful person, attending every Sunday service with her, praying at the altar at length. Sometimes she saw his tears – a bad person would never shed tears at moments like that. He missed Sean, she and Stephen missed him too. The older boy did nothing wrong, he took care of his little brother when both were suffering from grief and hardships, and he did it well. She often prayed for him, wishing him health and happiness in Mexico.

The envelope was still heavy. Daniel shook it, finding something else inside. He tipped it over his palm and watched the white sand trickle down into it. Sean sent him some sand from Puerto Lobos, like he usually did.

‘I miss Sean so much, I shouldn’t have left him,’ Daniel thought, studying the sunlit lawn, and went upstairs.

* * *

“Daniel, has Wolfie come back yet?” Claire asked from the armchair.

“I haven’t seen him.” He shook his head.

“That’s strange, he’s never stayed out for so long.”

“Dogs get like that sometimes.” Daniel shrugged. “Once he gets hungry, he’ll come running back.”

Grandma nodded in agreement.

“Sean looks great,” she said, looking at the picture. “Mexico has been really good for him. He is a wonderful boy, it’s a shame it had to turn out this way.”

She always said that when she read his letters and looked at his pictures, and Daniel agreed. But he missed having Sean by his side. Only after they had parted ways did Daniel understand what an important role Sean played in his life.

He remembered how at the border Sean leaned over the steering wheel after seeing the police cars, utterly exhausted and not knowing what to do. He remembered him saying that he was sorry for his mistakes, that he had tried his best and that he was so proud of Daniel, just like Dad would’ve been. And that Daniel could make his own rules now.

So Daniel did. He made the right, grown-up decision, his first completely independent one. Sean had no future in America, his only way out was to live in Mexico, he wanted to go there and Daniel wanted to go there too, for a while. But Sean brought him up to be a good person, a law-abiding American citizen who had nothing to do in another country, his life was here, with his relatives. He was friends with Chris, went to school, lived in a big house, got a car for his birthday this spring. Sean said Dad had been proud to live in this country. Daniel had no future in Mexico.

“Promise me that you will always do the right thing, okay?” Sean told him. “Be smart, like you already are.”

“I don’t want them to separate us,” Daniel said in reply. So he separated them himself, jumping out of the car in the last moment. As he lay there on the asphalt littered with broken glass, he watched Sean driving away. “I hope you’ll be happy in Mexico!”

Now Sean was somewhere in another country…

“Grandma, I’ll be in my room,” he said, climbing the stairs. There was time when he lived there with his brother, slept with him in the same bed, horsed around with him after bedtime. Sean calmed him down when he had nightmares, held him close, kept him safe. Daniel really missed it all.

Once Sean settled in Mexico, he wrote to him every week, sometimes sending only pictures, but he always put white Mexican sand in the envelopes. He never complained, never said he was having a hard time, but between the lines Daniel could feel his panic. He could feel that his brother was struggling – at a new place, in a foreign country, without him. At least Sean knew Spanish, that helped him to fit in.

Each letter was a cause for celebration and made Daniel extremely happy. He showed them to Grandma and Grandpa and in the evenings they read them aloud together by the fire. Daniel cried from sadness, guilt and happiness – wishing that his brother was with him, regretting that he was in another country because of him, and believing that he would eventually sort everything out. He made it to Puerto Lobos, started restoring Dad’s repair shop, met the neighbours, he even mentioned that Cassidy came to visit him one time…

The letters were coming for three whole months, but in October they stopped.

Daniel couldn’t understand why his brother wasn’t writing to him anymore. He sent him letters every day, first asking questions, then trying to come up with reasons why, then demanding answers and raging because of lack of response, and finally begging for a reply. But he never got one. They didn’t know what to think, Daniel was completely devastated.

And by Christmas Sean’s letters started coming again. The handwriting was unsteady at first, but with time it got better. Sean told them he had been very sick and couldn’t even hold the pen properly, but he recovered and everything would be the way it had been before. When they got the first letter after such a long break the Reynolds celebrated it grander than Christmas. And thanked God Sean was alright.

* * *

One evening, about a year after Sean started living in Mexico, Cassidy came to their house. Grandma didn’t want to let her in, argued with her and threatened to call the cops. But Daniel was home, he heard the yelling and came down.

“Cass!”

He ran out onto the porch and hugged her tightly. Grandma couldn’t believe her eyes.

Daniel never liked Cass – Sean gave her too much attention in California and it made him mad. Later he realised though that it was just stupid childish jealousy. Cassidy pissed him off then, but now he was hugging her with face wet from tears. She smelled like trains, and roads, and weed and something that he could only describe as ‘her’.

“I missed you so much, Cass!”

“Oh, Daniel, I missed you too.” She smiled, hugging him back and stroking his hair. “You grew up so much!”

“You can come inside, young lady,” Claire suggested with little enthusiasm. She saw what was happening with her grandson.

“No, thank you, Mrs Reynolds,” Cassidy replied. “I’ll talk to him outside, if you don’t mind. Daniel, will you walk with me?”

As they were going down the street, Daniel was telling her about his life, about his dog Wolfie who he got for Christmas from Grandma and Grandpa, about his school, about Chris… Anything to put off the moment when she would start telling him about herself, and about Sean. Although he wanted to hear about him more than about anything in the world.

“Daniel...”

That was it. He looked at her, dropping her hand.

“Do you know already that Sean is?..”

His body went numb.

“Dead.”

Daniel was silent. He watched her with eyes open wide and cheeks hot from tears that were streaming down.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news, it’s so not my style.”

She reached inside her backpack and took out an old wrinkled newspaper.

“He was killed, Daniel, last October.”

“No, Cass, Sean is alive!” he suddenly screamed. “He’s alive! He sends me letters!”

“Daniel!” she shouted, reaching for him. But the invisible force pushed her away. The same force whose hit she barely survived at Merrill’s house.

“Sean is alive! He’s alive!” Daniel was yelling. His face was twisted in a grimace as he sobbed. “Get lost! I don’t want to see your face again! Ever!”

She hurried away, nudged by Daniel’s power that felt like strong gusts of wind. Her pink hair was blown around, her guitar dangling awkwardly behind her back.

“Sean is alive!” Daniel cried, standing in the middle of the road, and couldn’t stop. “He’s alive...”

At his feet lay the tattered paper in Spanish.

* * *

Once in his room, Daniel turned on the laptop. Opened the graphic editor, then the folder titled ‘Sean’. In there were numerous edits of his brother, alone and with different people, beach backgrounds and pictures of eye patches and prosthetic eyes. He took a polaroid from the drawer, and a jar of white sand. Deep in the desk cabinet was the five-year-old paper, opened on the page that read:

_Los jóvenes están muriendo_

_Un residente local, Sean Díaz, fue asesinado en su casa, tenía 17 años._

The paper was chewed on one side and splattered with blood.

“Sorry, Wolfie,” Daniel said, letting out a heavy sigh. “I got scared that someone would see it and overdid it.”

Leaning over a blank sheet of paper, Daniel took a pen. Today his big brother was going to write him another letter.

He started, immitating Sean’s handwriting:

_Hello, Grandma Claire and Grandpa Stephen! Hi, my little cub Daniel! Wolf brothers are always together, even if they are so far apart! I’m doing great, the weather in Mexico is wonderful, the ocean is warm, and there isn’t a cloud in the sky, it’s impossible to be outside at noon. The repair shop is thriving, I’m making a lot of money, and I terribly miss you all..._


End file.
